The Arcade
by monomatryoshka
Summary: Alfred likes to hang out at the local video game arcade after school and there he meets Ivan, a recent immigrant from the USSR. Set in the late seventies, early eighties. Retro gaming AU, high school AU, BrokenEnglish!Ivan
1. Chapter 1

Alfred's legs pumped the pedals furiously as he struggled to make it to the crest of the slope. His shorts rode up to reveal a fading tan and his backpack was almost on top of him; tipping him forward, urging him on. He felt the incline change and sat back to let himself coast down, down into the cul-de-sac. The cold air felt good against his sweaty forehead, and with a familiar motion he let go of the handlebars to wipe the condensation of the early-September evening off.

Home.

Another day of school _done_. Alfred grinned. _Only…_ he calculated for a moment. _Two hundred eighty minus seven_…_ two hundred and seventy-three more days to go!_ Most folks started their end of school countdown at the end of the year, but not Alfred. To him, the days were only numbers on the calendar which he treated with the disinterest of immutable facts; a high score, for which he cared, but could do nothing to change.

Alfred allowed his mind to wander as he let gravity take him down the slope. So far, disregarding two years of preschool and kindergarten, he figured he had 1,774 days on the board from his ten years of schooling, minus a few days for being sick and a couple here and there to play hooky. It wasn't like he cared so much about a perfect attendance; he didn't. There was just something constant in the unending parade of numbers, numbers that even school couldn't attach meaning to. A point system.

Pulling up in front of the house, Alfred let himself in and immediately dropped his backpack in the entryway. It was a typical suburban house with about ten year old shag carpet visible beyond the tile of kitchen.

"Hello? Mom? You home?" Alfred listened, walking up to the change bowl and grabbing a handful of quarters.

"I'm going to the arcade, okay?" There was a distant shout that could have been interpreted as really anything. _Close enough,_ Alfred thought, pocketing the money and bounding out the door. Alfred hopped on his bike, pedaling hard enough to work up another sweat.

* * *

The gravel crunched as Alfred pulled into the dusty parking lot of the old arcade. In recent years the place had seen a lot less traffic and had fallen into disuse and ill-repute. A faced patch covered over some recent graffiti. Alfred scowled at the off-color blue paint. He remembered the first day he saw that. It made him mad to see the local joint tagged by some kids. He probably even knew them—it was a pretty small town.

The easy-going type, Alfred never had problems making friends and considered himself to be generally well-liked. A little too geeky to be considered popular, he would have conceded if asked, but well-liked. In the small, typical Midwest town, his friendly personality was appreciated for its liveliness, and for that he could usually pull the dumb act when he felt tired without too much consequence. He leaned his bike up to cover the spot. A good kid. Even if they called him a math geek, there was no dispute he was a good kid.

Alfred jumped up the concrete steps and lazily leaned the door open while he counted quarters, calculating how many games he could play. The college student behind the counter gave him a familiar nod before going back to his coursework. Alfred's eyes adjusted to the darkness of the arcade.

The Astro Arcade was a worn complex that was like the outgrown t-shirt of the town; hardly used, but still there. The stucco exterior was painted navy blue in the hopes of sticking with the space theme, but had since been patched over with other similar shades to cover graffiti. Inside, the carpet was a faded pattern of stars and rocket ships, worn almost to white fray and wood in front of the popular games. If Alfred were to bet, he'd say the place hadn't been vacuumed since 1965. An overall sense of grime pervaded the place which probably contributed to the decline in traffic, but Alfred didn't care. There was only one game he had in mind.

Making his way over to a particularly worn-out console, Alfred pulled a crumpled tissue out of his pocket and carefully began to wipe around the buttons. The man at the counter looked up blankly before going back to his work again. Alfred ignored him. It was kind of gross otherwise, even though it was probably mostly his own germs he wiped away. He played the game almost daily.

Some kids traded baseball cards, others played sports; Alfred played _Asteroids_.

After the machine was sufficiently clean, Alfred inserted the first of his quarters and got to work. The object of the game was to survive for as long as possible by dodging and blasting asteroids. It didn't have the flashiest graphics, but the simple controls and easy premise had quickly made the game Alfred's favorite. That wasn't to say it was easy; it took a surprising amount of dexterity to maneuver the tiny triangular craft in the patch of drifting space junk. It had taken many hours hunched over the screen to get the hang of the controls, but he had eventually mastered the game, as his dominance over the scoreboard proved. Now _Asteroids_ was comfortable, and while Alfred was always willing to try the other games that Kiku recommended, he always said that they "just weren't as heroic" as the original.

Alfred shot a few more times, then groaned as his ship lost its last life. Well, that was that. He stepped back and twisted his neck a couple times to get it back to normal. _Might be nice to take a break._ If he paced himself, he could buy a Coke with the quarters he saved. Besides, maybe he'd play better after walking around.

There were a few kids who came to the arcade regularly whom Alfred could identify. Today a couple of them were in. Kiku, whose parents were from Japan, sat destroying at a new Namco game. Matthew, who didn't talk much and was a couple years younger than Alfred, was also in.

"Hey Kiku, what's up?" Alfred slapped his friend on the back, and the boy shuddered and faltered in his game. "Oh, whoops, sorry. Forgot you don't like to be…" He trailed off as Kiku frantically nodded. "I'll just…" _Geez, quite the social butterflies in this joint,_ Alfred thought. Not wishing for a similar reaction from Matthew, he caught his eye and only smiled as he walked to the counter to buy a Coke. No longer in a rush, he wandered back to his usual spot with the drink and took a few sips before restarting his game.

In some ways Alfred distanced himself from the awkward arcade regulars, but at the same time he also enjoyed their company more than he did of the "normal" kids at school. With the gamer crowd he didn't have to worry about being judged or how he sounded. Still, he would have liked if they interacted with him more. It was pretty quiet in the arcade with no one to talk to.

Eventually Kiku and Matthew ran out of money and left, leaving Alfred alone. He took a couple more swigs to finish off the can, then sat down to really start playing.

After about ten minutes the door swung open, and out of habit Alfred looked up to see who it was. _A little late to come play,_ he thought. _Place usually closes at five._ The newcomer looked to be about Alfred's age, and was dressed a little too warmly for the weather with what looked like a homemade scarf wrapped around his neck. Even from a distance he looked huge; big and sturdy and tall enough to be able to see comfortably over the rows of consoles. His light blond hair almost grazed the low stucco ceiling because of his height.

Alfred watched as the newcomer looked around uncomfortably, glancing at the front desk as if to ask permission before wandering over to the gaming section. He took a long time to carefully check the names, eventually finding a console two away from Alfred's. _I wonder what he's going to play,_ Alfred thought. As his ship exploded died on screen, he stepped back and leaned against the front of the cabinet. He watched as the boy seemed to struggle with pushing in the coins, quickly growing frustrated.

"Here, let me help you. I've heard this one's a little sticky." The boy looked over, confused, but Alfred just walked over and crouched down in front of the console. He took the coins out, pounded the button a few times, then pushed the coins back in. "See? You just have to force it." He looked up at the fidgeting boy and straightened.

"Eh… thank you." The lighter blond smiled sweetly.

_Man, he's even bigger up close._

"No problemo, buddy! I'm Alfred, by the way. But you can call me Al." He held his hand out good-naturedly, but retracted it when he saw the teen look bewildered.

"My name is Ivan."

Alfred smiled at his stiff pronunciation. "Well, nice to meet you, Ivan. If you don't mind me asking, where's your accent from?"

Ivan colored. "I am from CC— USSR," he amended slowly. "I did not think my accent was so bad."

Alfred shrugged. "It's alright. Betcha don't get a lot of practice over there." Ivan said nothing, looking back at his console. "Oh, I get it. Tetris 'cause you're from Russia, right?"

Ivan nodded.

"Wasn't Tetris invented in Russia?"

Another nod.

_Not much of a talker, then._ "Alright, well… enjoy your game, I guess." Alfred went back to his spot, feeding in another coin and humming happily. It didn't take long before he was fully engrossed in blasting space rocks again. Ivan took the opportunity to sneak a sidelong glance. He had heard Americans were friendly, but this was more than he had expected.

_Asteroids_ wasn't a particularly difficult game, but Alfred preoccupied himself with it for another half hour until his money ran out. Before he left, he smiled at Ivan and gave a sloppy salute on the way out. Ivan managed to nod back in return before Alfred bounded out the door and onto his bike. Ivan watched him leave before he returned to his game, the ghost of a smile on his face.

* * *

**In case you didn't know: CCCP is the Russian version of USSR which is why Ivan stumbled on it at first. **

_**Asteroids**_** is a space shooter game that was released in 1979 by Atari, an American company. It was immediately successful upon release, and is the best-selling game for Atari of all time.**

**Thank you for reading! I'm the type who loves historical context, so prepare for a lot of background info in these author's notes. Any comments or constructive criticisms are very much appreciated.**


	2. Chapter 2

_Go outside and make some new friends, _his parents had said. Ivan only nodded as he left the house, but inside he felt annoyed.

_What else am I supposed to do?_

It wasn't like he didn't want to make new friends, he just didn't know how to very well. A lot of the time Ivan got the impression that people didn't feel comfortable around him, whether it was because of his "intimidating" height or his initial shyness around strangers that came off as aloof. He kicked a stray piece of gravel in the road. If he were to be honest with himself, even his closest friends were always distant. And now that he was in America, the distance was physical as well.

Ivan continued to walk down the street, his feet carrying him forward while he drifted in his thoughts. He'd had a few friends at home… _But this is home now,_ he corrected. Like his father said, they needed to assimilate. Ivan frowned. It wasn't like his father was bad, only cold. The last few months before their family had left he had been colder than ever, speaking only in English and criticizing every detail of his mother's packing. At least now he was in a better mood; although he still insisted on speaking English at all times, he greeted them with a smile when he got home from work.

Back in the Soviet Union, Ivan's father had held a rather prestigious position in the government, so life was never that bad for them. Ivan felt guilty sometimes, walking past the sorrowful women and children on the street while he was so big and strong. Even during the shortages they had managed to get by, so the news of moving had come as a complete surprise.

_Why did we leave?_

Ivan would have liked to know, but the topic seemed to be off-limits. Rumor was that the government was failing and that the shortages would be getting worse. What used to be a thirty minute wait at the _gastronom_ had steadily evolved into hours; another fifteen minutes added every couple of days. Sometimes Ivan and his sisters would be standing in line only to find that there was no food left to sell. On those days the crowds would dissipate around them like a restless, grumbling fog; the warning thunder, perhaps, of a larger storm.

While the shortages were undeniable, government mismanagement was never openly discussed. What little Ivan and his sisters knew was overheard from their father's coworkers, fellow state employees who would come after dinner and stay late into the evening to talk. Reform was inevitable, they all would agree, but with the economy stagnating and defense expenditures still high, no one knew where the changes would begin. During those discussions their father would say nothing.

Looking back now, his silence made sense. The socialist dream was all they had, even if it was falling apart. Now that they were here it seemed better to let the subject drop.

The street narrowed, and the sidewalk flattened into a shoulder lane. Ivan glanced over his shoulder and crossed the road. He knew life would be better here, but what if he didn't make friends? Katyusha was older and already had met people. Natalya was sweet, but she was only seven, and Ivan could only play house for so long.

The truth was, he missed Russia. He missed the security of knowing the spoken language and unspoken customs. He missed the smell of tea that would waft in from samovars across the plaza in the afternoon. So far his only reminder of home was the same set of shabby curtains that hung limply in their new kitchen.

And yesterday, finding _Tetris_.

It was an embarrassing cliché, but Ivan didn't care. There was something reassuring about the game. The familiar melody, the cheerfully bright blocks, the mindless task of organizing; together it all felt satisfying in a way he couldn't quite define. _Tetris_ was stable. Comforting.

Ivan continued to follow the road, the arcade he had stumbled upon yesterday now clearly in sight. Slowing his pace, he took in the faded blue exterior. Maybe this was a chance for a "fresh start", one of the many American idioms he was starting to pick up. He wanted to make friends, and already he had met Alfred.

Another idiom came to mind as he pushed open the door. _Here goes nothing._

* * *

"You're back!"

The loud, undeniably American voice made Ivan start, wrenching him out of his thoughts. "Yes," he said evenly. The boy from yesterday was already at his game and hadn't turned around. Ivan wondered offhand if he had recognized his footfall. He walked over to _Tetris_ and pulled out a quarter.

"I like the scarf. Did your mom make it for you?" Ivan looked over warily. Alfred's eyes were still magnetized to the screen.

"My sister." He didn't add that she only helped with the first few rows and that he had made the rest.

Alfred grunted; half in acknowledgment, half in concentration. "Ugh... That's cool. I wish my family made me stuff." He turned around to flash a quick but blinding smile, then kept playing.

Ivan blinked, unsure of what to say. "Thank you," he said finally.

"Y're welcome."

Ivan watched as Alfred expertly maneuvered around the screen, completely focused and silent. Many times the tiny spaceship seemed to be pixels away from destruction, but with a well-timed click, Alfred would clear a path through the debris and escape. Finally the asteroids began to disappear, and the blond visibly relaxed, rolling his shoulders as he cleaned the screen entirely. The display refreshed for the next level, and he died almost immediately.

"Man, I thought I had that one." Alfred sighed and slapped the side of the console fondly before looking over at Ivan. "Glad I beat that last level, though. That was a toughie."

He grinned, and Ivan realized that he was narrating aloud for his sake. Embarrassed that he had been caught watching, he looked away, a light blush staining his cheeks.

"Hey, dude, you shy? It's alright if you wanna watch! I watch Mattie and Kiku all the time when I run out of money. They actually kind of hate it because they say I mess them up because I talk too much, but that won't be you, I bet. Unless you like to talk," he conceded. "Maybe you do, but you don't know me yet so you're kind of weirded out so you don't."

Ivan was slightly overwhelmed by Alfred's one-sided conversation, but felt more comfortable when Alfred started showing him the controls.

"Looks easy, but it's not," he explained, scooting aside so his companion could see. "This is left, right, thrust, reverse," he smacked a button, and a pinpoint of light appeared, "shoot." Once he popped in another quarter, he demonstrated on the first screen. "You just try to survive, basically. Oh, and this is hyperspace. You push this if you don't know what else to do."

He hit the button and the icon disappeared to another region of the screen, unfortunately right in the path of an approaching asteroid. As the obliterated remains of the first ship drifted around the screen, Alfred turned to him with a smile.

"Wanna try?"

Ivan nervously took the controls, but died almost immediately the next two times, unable to get the hang of it. He felt embarrassed for wasting the nice kid's money, but Alfred didn't seem to mind. "It's tougher than it looks, right? It's kind of an old game. Kiku keeps trying to get me to try other ones, but I keep telling him it's a classic and you gotta respect the classics."

Ivan nodded along as Alfred continued to babble about the wrap-around screen and aliens before suddenly asking, "Do you want something to drink?" They wandered over to the counter. Behind was a small space with a beaded curtain over the doorway to the back storage room.

"Hey, Tony! Can you get me a Coke?" Alfred called to the back, pushing on the bar overhang to lean farther in. Ivan stood off to the side, watching him. "You gotta call really loud, otherwise he won't hear you," Alfred explained. "I don't know what he's doing back there… Hey! _Tony!_"

There was a muffled clang. A few seconds later the beads parted, and a man slowly wandered out. He nodded at Alfred, taking a can from the dingy mini fridge, then looked at Ivan as though to ask if he wanted anything. Ivan shook his head no. As he approached to put the can on the counter, Ivan recognized the smell of marijuana on his clothes.

Alfred grinned, oblivious. "Oh come on, get something!" He bumped shoulders. "It's a chance to practice your English."

Ivan glanced at his new friend, then back at the man at the counter. _Tony, was it?_ There was something kind of weird about him, besides the obvious drug use.

"A Coke also, please." Tony nodded and put another can on the counter.

"That'll be all," Alfred said, fishing out a few coins. Tony nodded a third time and silently rang them up. Alfred looked over again. "Unless you want anything else?"

Ivan realized what he was doing. "No. But I will pay—"

"_No,_ I'm paying." Ivan opened his mouth to protest, but Alfred cut him off. "You're new. Just let me do this. Think of it as your welcome gift or something." Ivan wanted to argue, but forced himself to accept it.

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it, buddy." He dropped the money on the counter. "We're friends now, right?" The simple, almost rhetorical question made Ivan's face light up, although he did his best to hide it.

"Yes." Al cracked open both cans and slid one to him.

"Cool. You know, you should really meet the others. I think you guys would get along."

They sat on the stools and drank their sodas for a while, each secretly observing the other. Machines whirred and beeped in the background, keeping the silence from becoming awkward.

"Do you have your schedule yet?" Alfred asked suddenly. Ivan reached in his pocket and carefully unfolded it on the counter. Their whole family had gone to the high school to register just after they arrived. In the main office the receptionist had struggled to understand their parents' thick accents, Katyusha finally stepping in to help translate. By that point Natasha was getting antsy and they were already late for their next appointment, so he hadn't had the chance to look his classes over.

As Alfred flattened the paper on table, Ivan wished fervently that they would have a match.

"Aww, it looks like we don't have any classes together." Ivan's heart sank. "I have Ruther for English, but fourth period, not fifth. Are you sure you want to be signed up for honors? You don't exactly have the language down yet."

"There is no room in regular English," Ivan said, repeating the receptionist's words.

Alfred gave the schedule another look and folded it up the same way. "Well, that makes sense. You are starting kind of late." Seeing Ivan's disappointed expression, he quickly added, "But don't worry, you'll catch up fast. We always do review for about a month anyway. What's your favorite subject?"

"Physics."

"You've taken it already?" Alfred was impressed.

"Yes. In an old science class." Ivan took a deep breath. He wanted badly to continue the conversation, but knew his inexperienced words didn't come out quite right. "I like… the laws Newton," he added tentatively. Thankfully, Alfred understood.

"You mean Newton's laws? I like those too. We learned about them a little last year. It's cool how you can break it all up into numbers and still get something useful, you know?"

"Numbers are good," Ivan agreed.

"Right? All you need are your variables, put 'em through the laws, and bam! You can solve for anything. Isn't that crazy? I mean, who's to say you can't predict everything if you have the right numbers?" Catching himself, he laughed guiltily. "Heh, sorry. Math is kind of my favorite subject. Unless lunch is a subject; then it'd be lunch. Hey, do you have the same lunch? It goes by building."

Ivan pulled his schedule out again. They did.

"Sweet! Looks like you're all set." Alfred finished the rest of his drink with a satisfied swig, then leaned in conspiratorially. "You know, the cafeteria's not that bad. I mean, the food's not great, but at least it's edible. Don't get the soups, though. I found a Band-Aid in mine once."

A soft, chiding voice drifted over from a nearby game. "Al, are you telling the Band-Aid story again? I told you, that was a piece of napkin."

"I know what I saw!" Alfred shouted back. A boy with a blond mop of hair poked around the corner and looked about to retort, but froze when he saw Ivan. "He gets shy around new people," Alfred offered in apology. "Ivan, this is Matthew."

The blond adjusted his large, wireframe glasses and gave a sheepish half wave. Ivan was struck by how similar they looked.

"Are you brothers?"

Al wrapped an arm around his look-alike. "Brothers from another mother! Amiright, Mattie?" He held his fist out to bump, which was returned weakly. Ivan's confusion must have showed on his face because he added in a lower voice, "His parents fight a lot so he stays over at my place." Matthew blushed.

"It is nice to meet you, Matthew."

"Y-you too."

"The stutter comes out when he's nervous," Alfred ribbed. Matthew glared and wandered off to another region of the arcade. "Don't worry, he can take it," Alfred said, seeing Ivan's look of concern. "It's my job to embarrass him. He's like that at first, but he'll warm up to you in a couple days. Tomorrow you should come back and I'll introduce you to Kiku. He usually comes in on Fridays." Leaning over the counter, he chucked the empty can at the garbage, making the basket.

"_Spasibo_," Ivan said gratefully.

"Spazzy-what?"

"Sorry! Thank you," he corrected quickly.

Alfred grinned and punched him in the shoulder. "Hey, I said don't mention it! You're in my home now. You're in good hands." Something he said triggered a memory, and he glanced at the wall clock. "Shoot, I have to go." He stood. "Tomorrow, then?"

Ivan barely had time to answer in the affirmative before Alfred was halfway to the door, twisting at the last moment to give him a spirited wave. He watched his new friend bound out the glass door and mount his bike, a few seconds later peeling out of the gravel lot and into the street.

That had gone well. Ivan took his time finishing his free drink, then returned to what was becoming his usual spot at the _Tetris_ console. Depositing a quarter, he waited for the machine to exit the start screen. _We're friends now, right?_ The start screen disappeared, and the game began.

* * *

_**Gastronom**_** was the name for Soviet supermarkets. In the early to mid-eighties, shortages were becoming more common, and many people would stand in line for hours to get food and other consumer goods. Bureaucrats or those with connections could buy at a closed-to-public **_**gastronom**_**.**

**The Era of Stagnation lasted from 1964–1982. It was characterized by a growing disillusionment with the communist ideals and a suffering economy.**

**Samovars are large, metal containers used for tea. Tea-drinking was extremely popular in the daily life of office workers and the intelligentsia in the Soviet period and still is common today.**


	3. Chapter 3

When Ivan entered the arcade on Friday, he saw that Alfred was standing next to a short, black-haired boy playing on a newer-looking console. The boy seemed to be trying to concentrate but was having a tough time with Alfred's nonstop chatter. Hearing the door open, Alfred turned around and beckoned Ivan over with a wave.

"Hey, you're here! Kiku was just showing me this new game they got. It's called _Donkey Kong_, but the guy isn't called that." He pointed at the avatar, a short man in red overalls. "What's his name again?"

"Jumpman," Kiku said, not looking away from the screen.

"Apparently it's like a story," Alfred continued. "You're the construction worker, and to save the lady you have to get to the top of the building. There's a monkey too, so it's kind of like _King Kong_." They watched as the avatar skillfully evaded a moving obstacle but got knocked down by the next. A life disappeared from the corner of the screen.

"And if you pass all the levels the game starts over, right?"

Kiku nodded. The level refreshed, but again Jumpman took a hit. A big "GAME OVER" appeared in yellow text in the center of the screen.

Finally Kiku turned away from the game, and Ivan was surprised to see that his face appeared as impassive as it was while playing. "Alfred-san, would you like to try?"

Alfred grinned. "Sure." Stepping forward, he fed a quarter into the machine and clicked past the introductory scene. Kiku had already retreated a respectful distance, and Ivan stepped back to make room too. "Dude, this is hard!" Alfred exclaimed once the game began. "It's tough to time right. You wanna try, Ivan?"

"No thank you." Hearing his accent, Kiku looked over sharply. Ivan blushed. The words had sounded better in his head.

Alfred easily passed the first level, but struggled a bit with the second. He squinted at the screen, tapping a certain area and glancing back at his audience. "Do you know how to get over this moving part?" Ivan and Kiku shuffled forward to see, but he already turned around to try again. "I keep jumping too early… oh, hey! I got it! Never mind."

A somewhat awkward silence settled in as Kiku and Ivan watched Alfred get the hang of the game. Eyes never leaving the screen, he would take a drink of soda between levels and then set the can on top of the machine after each swig. As Ivan watched his friend grope to insert another quarter, an English idiom he had once heard came to mind: addictive personality.

"Kinda reminds me of the son of the guy who owns the pizza parlor," Alfred commented eventually.

Kiku considered this. "Romano?"

"Mm-hm. He does the same weird jump thing." Still watching the screen, Alfred put his arms at stiff ninety degree angles to mimic the pose of Jumpman. Kiku nodded.

The silence stretched on. Another swig, another quarter in the machine.

"His brother is very nice," Kiku offered suddenly.

"Feli? Yeah."

"Have you been introduced to their younger brother yet?" Ivan glanced at Kiku.

"They have another brother? No, I don't think I've met him before." Alfred kept playing. After another minute the subtle prompt sunk in. "Oh, I should introduce you two! Kiku, this is Ivan." He took one hand off the buttons to gesture sloppily between them, then picked up his can of soda again.

Noticeably relieved, Kiku gave a friendly, if a bit formal nod. Ivan smiled and nodded back, but something had been bothering him. "Ee-vahn," he corrected softly.

Alfred turned around mid-drink. "Sorry?"

"Ee-vahn. That is my name," Ivan said firmly. Onscreen, Jumpman ran into an obstacle and died a final time. Kiku watched, unreadable eyes taking in one then the other.

"Not 'Eye-van'?"

He shook his head. "No."

"Oh. Sorry about that… Ivan," Alfred tested, looking at him for confirmation. Ivan nodded. "At least you told me now, unlike 'Kick-you' over here." He looked pointedly at Kiku who bowed his head.

"I'm sorry. It's understandable that you—" Alfred waved him off.

"Dude, maybe the first time, but I called you that for _years!_ I still can't believe you let it go on that long."

Kiku's placid expression morphed into one of intrigue. "And this experience was frustrating for you?" Alfred rolled his eyes.

"_Yes_, it was frustrating for me! I mean, it's your name! You should have at least said something."

Kiku furrowed his brow and nodded thoughtfully. Then, without another word, he walked away.

Alfred gave a long-suffering sigh and shook his head. Seeing Ivan's worried look, he explained, "Don't worry, he'll just wander off like that sometimes. Gotta give him room to think. He wants to be a psychologist or a school counselor someday so he has to, you know, digest it all."

He smiled in reassurance, then waved at Matthew who had just walked in. He waved back tentatively. The debilitating shyness from the day before seemed to have passed, but the blond still kept his distance, heading over to a console on the other side of the room.

In a moment of insight, Ivan thought Alfred seemed lonely.

"So, how's unpacking going?" Alfred grabbed his drink again and turned around to lean on the front of the console. Ivan shifted, collecting his words.

"Slow. We have many boxes to open." Unsure of what there'd be upon arrival, their family had brought nearly everything. They needn't have worried since the supermarkets here were stocked full of items, most of better quality than they had packed.

Alfred nodded sympathetically. "Dude, I know how that is. When we helped my grandma move, it took forever to get her out of her place. Never know how much you have until you move it all. Does your dad have a job yet?"

"No, but it is fine. He has good severance." The only reason Ivan remembered the word was because he had looked it up in an English dictionary. It had been near the words "severe" and "to sever", both of which had seemed appropriate.

"What was his old job?" Alfred started to take another swig of soda.

"He was a spy."

Alfred's eyes grew wide with horror and he gagged a little on the drink. "What?!"

Ivan began to laugh. "I joke! He is not a spy."

Alfred stared at him for a moment then started to laugh too, but nervously.

"So… no more ties to Russia, then?" Ivan stopped and shook his head, growing serious again.

"Only family. But I do not think we will see them again. We have almost all the papers now for the, ah, citizenship. My father will get a social security card soon."

"So he can get a job?"

"Yes." Ivan opened his mouth to continue, but wasn't sure what else he wanted to say. "The job here will be different," he settled on eventually. "It will be down from his old job."

Alfred nodded. "Not exactly cashier material, huh?"

"He is not friendly, but he is a good person." Again, Ivan paused to contemplate how to use his limited vocabulary. Alfred waited patiently. "He is… proud. The move is most tough for him, I think."

"What about for the rest of your family?" By now they had drifted over to where they had stood last time, near the _Asteroids_ and _Tetris_ consoles. Alfred chucked the now-empty can in the garbage.

"Mama is busy unpacking the house, Katyusha has made new friends, and I think Natalya… she will…" he waved his hands as he struggled to find the correct word.

"Adjust quickly?"

"Be good fast," Ivan said at nearly the same time. He blushed again, hearing the simplicity of his words compared to the native speaker's.

Alfred's smile was encouraging. "And what about you? Are you happy you guys moved here?" Ivan started to speak, but Alfred quickly added, "I don't mean what you say because you don't want to hurt anyone's feelings, but really. What do you think of it so far? Is it okay?"

His tone and expression of concern make it sound like a matter of personal importance. Ivan looked at Alfred curiously, then down at his hands as he tried to develop a worthy response.

Slowly he said, "Yes, I am happy we moved. It is only a few days that we are here, but most people are friendly and help us when they see we are new. There is more food at the store. It is safer." He paused to check if his friend was still interested, and saw that Alfred was listening intently. "In Russia… it feels like everything is ending. In America, we have a future," he concluded. Hearing this, a big grin lit up Alfred's face.

"Can I see your schedule again?" Ivan pulled it out of his pocket and handed it over. Alfred ran a finger down the class names, looking up occasionally as he tried to imagine where he would be at that time. When he saw the English class again, his brow furrowed.

"Still think you're going to have a tough time with English." Alfred gnawed on his bottom lip, staring deep into the paper. Ivan shifted a little and said nothing. Suddenly Alfred's face lit up. "Wait, I know! I can help you! You free after school Monday? What am I saying, of course you are; you're in America, you're free every day. But seriously, would Monday work?"

The onslaught of words caught Ivan off-guard. "Y-yes?" He stammered.

"Cool!" With a gleam in his eyes, Alfred stood and began to pace. "You're gonna need a couple books from the library… I think your class is reading the same ones as us, so that's _Catcher in the Rye_ and _Of Mice and Men_. Do you know where the library is?" Ivan shook his head. "Second floor, main building. The librarian is super nice; she can help you find what you need. Or you can just go to the public one. I think you know where that is. Wanna meet in Ruther's?"

"Sure."

"Okay, cool." Ivan had stood and was looking towards the door. "Oh, do you have to go?"

"Yes, I am sorry. I said I will be home in an hour." Alfred waved him off.

"Gotta unpack some more, I gotcha. See you tomorrow!" Ivan smiled and gave a little wave in return as he went to leave.

On the walk back Ivan realized with a touch of pride that he was beginning to recognize a few familiar landmarks. It wasn't long before he found himself on the front step of their new house. He carefully unlocked the door, stopping it just in time to avoid hitting an open moving box on the floor. The box overflowed with papers, and inside Ivan saw something that gave him an idea. He picked up the object and slipped it into his backpack for tomorrow.

* * *

**Jumpman was the protagonist of Nintendo's 1981 arcade game ****_Donkey Kong_****. He later came to be known as Mario.**


End file.
